Tuesday, September 30, 2008

So. After I did this? I was trying not to walk so much. Because I didn't want to make it worse.

I'm the Queen of Making Things Worse.

But since that happened Saturday and today is Tuesday, I was feeling a lot better. True, I cursed a lot on Saturday night and even more on Sunday and maybe just a little Monday, but I won't guarantee that Monday's cursing was about the pain in my knee and ankle so much as it was about just life in general. Today was Tuesday. The pain wasn't bad. I can bend and twist my legs in any number of ways and don't feel like I need to curse and/or vomit.

So I decided to go for a walk.

After about two minutes on the trail it started to rain.

By ten minutes? It was pouring the rain. Buckets. BUCKETS.

So my walk was only twenty minutes. So I walked about a mile. And probably won any wet t-shirt contests that I was unwillingly participating in.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

I joined because of the Weight Watchers Lose for Good campaign, which I hope you will join as well, if you are a Facebooker. Is that a word? Well, I'm saying it's a word.

I have this cool widget on my profile which says I've lost 6 pounds since September 7th. The money I've raised by losing those 6 pounds can help provide 26 meals to hungry people.

And actually? I've lost 6.4 pounds. The widget won't let me include the .4, but if you are trying to lose weight you know how important that stupid .4 is, am I right?

I don't make any money from Weight Watchers. I don't work for them. I'm just telling you, it's the easiest thing I've ever done to lose weight. It's really working for me. And the Lose for Good campaign is feeding hungry people.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

I felt like I've known her like forever and twenty-six minutes. She was so awesome. I did have to say to her about 200 times, "Don't get killed!" because she is such an amazing photographer that she would do things like, jump into the road to get a good angle. But I really liked her and I'd feel like a complete ass if she got killed trying to get a picture of me and my goofy family, so I'm glad she didn't.

She told me she is moving because she got a great opportunity and I felt sad. Because even though yesterday was the first time I had met her face-to-face and I, sadly, was not having my best hair day, I still felt like she and I could have been friends. Like for real friends. Like bff's or something. She was hilarious.

And then she was all like, "Too bad I'm moving because I think you and I would have been really good friends!"

And I was thinking, "We must have ESPN!" But I didn't say that because some people don't think that's funny.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Well, you are doing better than me, if you remember it. Because I had darn near forgot it even happened. I mean, it's been more than a month. I sort of assumed that Jason and I wouldn't hear anything back.

And that's fine, you know? We weren't mean. We were very clear in what we were after. And, we thought, it just wasn't meant to be.

So yesterday? I come home and open up my mailbox and there is a letter.

This time? Addressed to both of us. Not just Jason.

It?Wasn't awful.

And?She apologized.

Now, was it the apology I hoped for? No. It didn't say, "You know, I really screwed up and apparently if my son loves you then you are a Pretty, Pretty Princess and I was totally wrong and I suck and you rule". And let's be honest. That would be pretty unrealistic.

But it was an apology.

I didn't expect an apology. I so didn't expect an apology that I looked at Jason and said, "Oh shit. She apologized. What do we do now?"

There was no plan because there was never going to be an apology.

So.

I don't know what to do now. Nothing? Something? I'm not sure.

It's been four years since Jason's talked to them. More than like four and a half years since I've talked to any of them.

I don't know what you say after four years. I really don't.

Then, I was driving to work this morning and my mom called and said, "I could really tell you've lost weight. Your walking is really paying off. You are looking really good."

Sunday, September 21, 2008

I just started it yesterday so it kind of sucks right now, but I'm going to eventually use it to raise money for my walk next year and to chart my progress. And I'm actually making progress y'all, so it's cool.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Me to Jason: So, since we're doing the Buddy Walk with good, Christian folks? We're totally going to have to act right.

Jason: Damn.

Me: EPIC FAIL.

Me to my friend Allison: It just sucks you know? Here I am, working my ass off to be healthy so I can raise money for these poor women who don't have medical insurance and can't afford medical care and I end up with a big breast lump!*

Friday, September 19, 2008

I wish everyone who wanted to win my fantabulous contest could have won. Seriously, I think all of you are amazing and I think Weight Watchers is amazing. But alas, I only had two free three month memberships to give away and the winners, generated by Random.org are:

If you didn't win, you can still join and right now is a great time to do so. A lot of areas are offering free registration and you can also get a free week of the online version (which is what I do! Flex Plan in the Hizzy!) at WeightWatchers.com.

Thanks everyone for your comments! I wish I had about 59 memberships to give away so we could all rock this together.

Okay, five minutes into the show, I'm crying. Seriously. Boy Child is like, "Mom? Why are you crying?" and I had to admit I have NO IDEA. They play this sappy-ass music and you just want these people to succeed SO MUCH and it just makes you cry.

Okay, it makes me cry.

So then Bob comes on the screen and I start SHRIEKING LIKE A GIRL. He goes to surprise the first couple and Boy Child says, "Mom? Why is that lady screaming like that?" and I said, and this is a direct quote,

"Son, if Bob Harper came up to me like that? I would absolutely lose my shit."

I seriously would. I LOVE BOB HARPER. And not just because he's oh-so-fine to look at. Good Lord. I just want to hug him and be his bff and let him whip my fat-ass into shape.

Now don't get me wrong. The show, for me, is pure entertainment. I'm vaguely disturbed by a program in which someone cries when they lose 9lbs in a week because it wasn't enough. I have been losing about 6lbs in a MONTH. I would give my one remaining ovary to lose nine pounds in a week. Okay, it's a piece of crap and doesn't work, but still. Nine pounds!

So, I know it's a competition. It's not reality for most people. But it's still fun to watch.

And along the weight-loss theme, if you haven't already entered my super-fantasticalWeight Watchers give-away, never fear. There is still time! Enter before Midnight EST tonight and I'll draw a winner tomorrow. And sorry, the drawing will be totally random and out of my control. So I can't cheat or anything. Not that I would do anything like that. I totally wouldn't. I take my fat-ass and the losing of it very seriously, and I know you all do too.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Girl Child? Reads absolutely everything she can get her hands on. She reads comic books, she reads novels, she reads the backs of cereal boxes. Every single street sign from here to Eastern North Carolina she has, at some point, read aloud to me.

Boy Child? Not so much.

He struggled with reading at first, but then when he finally got it? He found it boring. Really the only thing he liked to read was cookbooks. Because he likes to cook and also he likes to eat.

Then he became interested in ghost stories. The more gory and bloody the better.

"They killed my mother and father- and I will hunt them to the ends of the earth"

Well, it sounded like a good book to read with a boy who likes to plot revenge strategies involving angry monkeys trapped in boxes.

And? I was right.

Here's a summary of the plot, from Amazon.The greatest superpower of all isn't to be part spider, part man, or to cast magic spells--the greatest power is the power to create.Daniel X has that power.

Daniel's secret abilities -- like being able to manipulate objects and animals with his mind or to recreate himself in any shape he chooses -- have helped him survive. But Daniel doesn't have a normal life. He is the protector of the earth, the Alien Hunter, with a mission beyond what anyone's imagining.

From the day that his parents were brutally murdered before of his very eyes, Daniel has used his unique gifts to hunt down their assassin. Finally, with the help of The List, bequeathed to him in his parents' dying breath, he is closing in on the killer.

Now, on his own, he vows to take on his father's mission--and to take vengeance in the process.

The author is James Patterson, who also wrote the Maximum Ride book I reviewed a while back. The main character in the book, Daniel, is a likable fellow, and the book is written from his point of view. I enjoyed this book more than the Maximum Ride book. It was easier to get lost in this book...I wasn't constantly reminded that I was reading a story by the characters in the book.

I read parts of this book out loud nightly to Boy Child (and Girl Child) and it's for sure a winner. It has action, adventure, aliens, and best of all? Fast-paced action and chapters short enough to keep their attention and long enough to tell a great story. Boy and Girl Child are ten and I felt it was just right for them. It probably isn't a book I would pick for myself, but for my children? Definitely. And MOST definitely for a "reluctant reader" like my Boy Child.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

We talk to her on Sunday and she cries the whole time. Says she's sad. She misses home. She's lonely. She doesn't have any friends. She's unhappy.

She's moved from New Hampshire, where she lived for a very long time, and is now in North Carolina.

We have no idea if any of this is accurate. We don't live there. She has Alzheimer's(at least the beginning stages) so does she even really know if people are visiting regularly? It's really hard to know what the truth is and what isn't.

But she's lonely and that's a problem. She's an old lady and she's Jason's grandma and she's lonely.

And that? Is not acceptable.

So I get on the internet and start looking things up. I find a service in their county that will come and visit with her and even help her with small errands and things. Totally free of charge.

Which is, of course, what I would do if I were there.But I'm not there.

And Weight Watchers? Seriously. It's not hard. Yes, sometimes it's crappy when I can't eat a metric ton of brownies, but actually? I don't need a metric ton of brownies. So figuring that out is really good also.

For every pound lost with Weight Watchers during a six-week period, beginning September 7 and ending October 18, Weight Watchers will donate the cost of one pound of food -- up to one million dollars. The funds will go to two hunger-fighting organizations: Share Our Strength, which works to make sure no child in America grows up hungry, and Action Against Hunger, which provides immediate and long-term solutions for hunger to people around the world.

Now. Isn't that awesome?

And here's a wonderful part. I get to give away two free three month memberships to Weight Watchers online!

I'll be blogging more about this in the upcoming weeks, but I wanted to get the word out. The sooner the winners are named and can get the subscriptions going, the sooner you can start Losing for Good!

Wanna win? Just leave me a comment on this post before midnight EST on Thursday the 18th. I'll randomly chose two winners on Friday, September 19th.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

I'm afraid of birds, but when I say I'm afraid of them I'm mostly saying, "I hate them and I don't want them around me". I don't like being out walking when it's so dark I can't see my feet. I'm pretty tough and I could probably fight off an attacker, but I don't want to try. I'm reasonably, appropriately worried about my children on a regular basis.

I'm not afraid of public speaking. I'm not afraid of making a fool of myself (obviously!). I'm not afraid of hard work, snakes, bugs, or heights.

I'm terrified I'm going to get breast cancer.

For about the past 15 years I've been pretty much certain I would be diagnosed. I woke up one morning and thought, "I'm going to have breast cancer". I don't know why.

Well, I kind of know why. My mother had breast cancer. She was the first person in her family to have it and she took good care of herself and she still had cancer. I've had every other "female" problem known to man, it seems, so it sort of makes sense that I'd have breast cancer also.

I know it's paranoia, to an extent. I also know that every three minutes a woman in this country is diagnosed with breast cancer. EVERY. THREE. MINUTES. That's scary as hell.

Friday, September 12, 2008

I sit behind a low wall in a huge "office", which is actually a big room which used to be a vault. There are six of us in the room and I sit right beside my boss. Literally we are less than three feet apart.

It's a great seat, despite the fact that I have a credenza for a desk and I don't have anything like tape or scissors or, you know, a phone. I can sit here, do my work, still hear all the people in the room. We have a small window at the front of the room and people come by and drop off requests, documents, and so on.

Sometimes people stand at the front of the room and talk and I don't see them, but I can usually hear them.

Which is why I shouted to someone today that the reason the HR manager wasn't calling them back was, and I quote,

"BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE A DICK!"

Sadly, the brand, spanking new project manager had walked up to the door and was standing beside her.

Which is still better than the fact that I shouted, "MOTHER OF ASS!" yesterday at the exact moment that the company President strolled by our door and decided to stop and pay us a visit.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Apparently the world keeps on turning as I trip my way, oblivious, through it.

It's not Fall yet. According to my calendar, it won't be Autumn until the 22nd of this month. Thus, in my mind, it should not be dark until really late.

Except, yeah. That's not actually what happens. What actually happens is that you are on a dark, wooded path trying to walk the fat off of your ass and suddenly you are plunged into abject darkness. And how fun is that? Well let me just tell you. Not very.

I had Ginger with me and in theory she's probably a very good guard dog. I don't know though because 1) she's unaware that she's a dog and 2) she's about the friendliest dog on the planet and if someone came up on us she would be all like, "Hello! Do you have food? I love you!" and wag her really fluffy tail and I'd be totally dead.

So. I'm on a path that is dark and wooded. I can't see my hand in front of my face. Every noise makes me think there is a robber or molester in the bushes, waiting to...you know, stab me.

So I ran.

I CANNOT RUN YOU GUYS. I am fat as holy hell. I have boobs the size of small countries. I. cannot. run.

So I won this Jillian Michaels 30 day Shred video from the lovely Andreanna. And yes, I did try it.And OMG. O! M! G! It is hard. People. Do not be fooled by the fact that it is 20 minutes and it combines simple exercises like push-ups and jumping jacks. Have you ever seen a woman with size 44DD’s try to do jumping jacks without giving herself black eyes? It ain’t pretty.

However, I am pleasantly sore. And thank you again!

Priscilla asked:Wait! Did you say brain injury?Did you blog about this before? If not, please do. No reason, I'm just nosy.

I don’t know if I blogged about it before. I can’t remember doing so.

When Jason was about twenty years old he lived in Richmond, Virginia in an apartment with a guy who was possibly in the Mafia or something and did things like count his penis and balls in the shower, like the Count from Sesame Street. They lived on the third floor of the apartment building.

One day, Jason was out on the balcony of the apartment.

That’s all he remembers.

Apparently? The balcony collapsed. Or the dude he lived with pushed him, he doesn’t know, and he never, ever saw that guy again.

But he fell three stories.

He broke both his arms, both his legs, his collarbone. He had to have an umbrella put in his heart. He makes metal detectors go INSANE in the airport because of all the various pins in his body.

The doctors said he would have to learn to walk and talk again.

Less than a week later, the nurse caught him in the bathroom trying to light a cigarette against the bulb on the light fixture. Later, she caught him trying to shave himself with a straight razor. Because, apparently, if you are my spouse, even if you are in a coma you have to look good. And also, you know, smoke.

Needless to say, he’s okay. The brain injury had no lasting effects except for having the short-term memory of a gnat. If you met him you would never know that anything like that ever happened.

A whole bunch of you asked,Where did you get the Prose before Hos shirt?

My beautiful HOhio friend Kate gave it to me. I believe she got it at Busted Tees

I adore her. And my shirt.

Another whole bunch of you asked,Do you have a website where we can support you in the Race for the Cure?

Officially? Not yet.

The race this year has not happened yet. They won’t open up the pages for the 2009 race year until about November. I will DEFINITELY post the link for those who want to donate. Since I have to raise like $2000 by myself and, I am totally not hot and therefore men don't fling money at me, and I am most grateful for all the donations I can get.

Monday, September 08, 2008

My favorite place to walk is a park/greenway near my house, on the river.

It's really beautiful. There are dozens of trails so even though I often walk in the same place, I can walk a different path.

There are people who walk nearly every day. Most people stick to a particular path. Maybe they've walked them all and that's the one they like the best? I don't know. But they always seem the same.

The two skinny,bitchy girls on bikes are always on the death path. I call it the death path because I always feel like death after I walk it. Also? I usually fall down because that crap is REALLY FULL OF ROCKS. And also, I'm very clumsy.

The elderly couple who has an arthritic dog (named Spot, no less) is always on the cornfield path. They and their arthritic dog always lap me. Those two hundred year old people are in good shape, apparently.

The buff guy who thinks he's hotter than he actually is is always on the riverside path.

The new mom is always on the sidewalk path.

And so on.

I've said hello to all of these people. The elderly couple always wants to talk to me a lot, the bitchy girls are, well, bitchy, and don't talk to me at all except when they get right up on me and then shout to announce themselves (because apparently I'm deaf and can't hear their loud asses coming up on me). The new mom and I always have something friendly to say to one another. The buff guy usually manages a hello.

You get the picture.

The other day I was walking on the cornfield path. I saw the elderly couple and they didn't talk to me like they usually do. They didn't ask me for the hinty billionth time what my dog's name was or if my husband was in this band that plays at Dollywood that they "seen this one time".

They stared.

But I thought, whatever. They're old. Maybe they've forgotten who I am. People I've known for years forget me. I'm forgettable! No big.

I came upon a group of ladies who were probably in their 60's. And? For some unknown reason? Had a cat with them.

I said, "Hey there!"

They all stared at me.

Weird.

I saw two young teenage boys. They stared at me. When I got past them, they started laughing.

Then? I started getting pissed.

Because, okay, yeah. I get it. I'm fat. Ha, ha. Fat people are FREAKING HILARIOUS. I know. It's socially acceptable to laugh at fat people, right? It's perfectly cool to laugh at some fat ass walking her dog on the path (doing a 20 minute mile, mind you!) because her face is red and she's breathing heavily and her ass is jiggly, right?

GAH!

I was pissed. Super pissed. I was pissed all the way back to the car.

And when I got back to the car? I caught a glimpse of myself in my sideview mirror.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Lately I've been trying to clean the clutter out of my life, both literally and figuratively. Literally? I've been holding on to things that my children have had for like, seven years. And that's just ridiculous, you know? The kids are more willing to get rid of their toys than I am. I think that might have something to do with my infertile ass rather than anything to do with them at all.

I'm also cleaning out my own cabinets and drawers and I keep finding all of these things that I call my things but they aren't actually my things at all.

When I married Jason he had his own house and I had my own house. He moved into my house and brought all his crap with him and so we had two houses full of crap to deal with. Jason has even more of a problem than I do getting rid of things. He had a chef's jacket that he bought in, seriously, like 1997. Back when he worked out five days a week and could run ten miles at a time. Now? Not so much. And, not to mention, he doesn't work as a freaking chef anymore. But God forbid he get rid of that jacket because, "I might need it someday". To do what with, I have no idea.

What's weird to me is that there are so many things that have no meaning or history to me. I guess another reason I hold onto "things" is because they mean something to me. I remember buying certain toys for my children when they were in the hospital. I can't give those away. I clearly and vividly remember certain events and times and the items associated with them.

But there are tons of things in my home and in my life that I have no idea about.

There is a mirror which hangs in my living room. It's beautiful. Probably an antique.

I have no idea where it came from. Due to my husband's brain injury (no, I wasn't kidding about that), he has no memory of it either.

Knives and plates and books. I use them every day.

It feels like I am cheating. Like I'm using someone else's things. Not my things.

Jason has been around a long time. A lot of the things we have are "our" things. Things we have bought together. Things we have bought each other. Things I know.

Saturday, September 06, 2008

I opened up my email this morning and there were two requests for product reviews on my blog. The first one was pretty straightforward. A product for moms. They'll send it to me and I can talk about it. Same old, same old.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

So if you are a mother you already know that when your kids are little, there is nothing off-limits. If you go to the bathroom? They will follow you right in the bathroom and talk to you about things like turtles while you are pooping. They will watch you, with a mixture of fascination and disgust, as you pluck a hair off your chin. It is almost impossible for you to take a shower without a little head poking through the curtain to tell you such life-altering news as, "The phone rang!" and "I made a pee-pee on the couch!" or ask you important questions like "Why do you have hair under your arms?".

But you tell yourself that it will get better. Eventually they will get older and they will not be utterly fascinated by every move you make. They won't DESPERATELY NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING the moment you get on the phone with your grandma. That someday, somehow, you will get to a point in your life that you will have a moment of peace.

And then you remember.

You have a husband.

Last night I was exhausted. I mean, exhausted . Stupidly ridiculous exhausted. And also sweaty because I had been walking and despite the fact it's September, it's still hot as balls.

So I decided to take a bath.

My beloved, who was watching the Republican National Convention, JUST BECAUSE HE LIKES IT (for the love of God), said,

"Oh! Before you take a bath? Can I take a shower?"

I looked at the clock. It said 9:27pm. This did not bode well for me.

"I'm tired hon," I said. "I just want to take a bath and go to bed."

He said, "How about if I take a shower REALLY, REALLY quickly? I'll be out by 9:45pm".

Did I believe him? Oh hell no.

So I said, "No you won't".

He appeared wounded. "Of course I will!"

So I said, "Fine".

At 9:59pm? He got out of the shower.

And then? He stood in the bathroom drying himself off. I went into the bathroom with him in an effort to get him to, you know, get his ass out of the bathroom so I could take my bath. I finally had to tell him that I had to pee in order to get him out, because God knows he can't even accept the fact that I ever have any kind of pee or poop coming out of my body, much less actually have to see it happen.

So fine. He's finally out of the bathroom. I run the bathwater, get in and try to relax.

At 10:19pm? After I had actually physically been in the tub for about 8 minutes? There was a knock at the bathroom door.

It was Jason.He desperately needed to get in.

So he could hang up the hand towels that he had just washed.

No. I'm not kidding.

I gave him a look that I feel certain conveyed, "OH MY GOD, I WILL KILL YOU".

So he left.

Five minutes later? He was back.

Because he forgot one of the towels.

Seven minutes after that? He was back.

Because he needed to BRUSH HIS BEARD AND HE HAD TO LOOK IN THE MIRROR WHILE HE DID IT.

I am quite positive I gave him a look that conveyed my true feelings for him at that moment. Which were pretty much, "YOU ARE SO LUCKY MY FOOT IS NOT IN YOUR ASS".

Monday, September 01, 2008

In doing so, Big Jim has encouraged me to start figuring out things that I want to do. I've spent a whole lot of years trying to make everyone else happy and while I still think that's good in some ways, in most ways? It pretty much sucks. Because I'm the one who ends up with the short end of the stick all the time.

Big Jim is helping me to understand that it's not selfish to want things for myself. Crazy, I know.

I mentioned recently that I'm walking. A lot. I plan on walking the 5k Komen Race for the Cure in October. And, I'm planning on walking in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in 2009. The 2 day walk.

I've decided that I will walk in the Charlotte event. In October, 2009. I picked Charlotte because my parents live in North Carolina and I thought I could somehow combine this with a visit with them. Plus, it's the latest one next year so it will give me 14 months to get ready.

I'm determined. I can do this. I can raise $1800. I can walk almost twenty miles in a day. Okay, I can't right now, but in 14 months? I so can.

So.

Who's with me?

Is there anyone out there that wants to participate in the Charlotte Walk for Breast Cancer? Even if you are a fattie like me, dude. Seriously. We have fourteen months. It's totally doable.

I'm doing it no matter what. I'll be sending in my registration within a few weeks. I'm going to start my fundraising soon. I've got a training plan that I'm working. Slowly, but surely, I'm increasing my time with every walk. I'm gaining stamina and I'm losing weight.